Pick Up the Pieces [Arbor, Zinnia, Alia]

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gm bourgeois decadence [aya]
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Pick Up the Pieces [Arbor, Zinnia, Alia] Mar 9, 2010 18:14:08 GMT -5

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Post by gm bourgeois decadence [aya] on Mar 9, 2010 18:14:08 GMT -5

Halt, Arbor C.

The rhythmic crunch of snow under three sets of boots had a hypnotic effect on Arbor. He let it consume his concentration, let it lull him into a stupor. Anything to keep from thinking. Something to take his mind off of the cold and the pain.

It was colder here than it had been at the frozen lake, where the alliance had been uprooted by a vicious civil war. Arbor had not seen it coming--literally or figuratively. But as soon as he'd had a grasp on the situation, it became clear that he had to act. He'd had to support one side or the other--or else run like that coward boy from Three.

In an impulsive decision, Arbor had chosen to support Zinnia and Alia in their unprompted attack on Archer. Archer, Arbor's friend. The older boy had taken a liking to the blind one, had taken him under his wing and meant to protect him. Maybe that was what had prompted Arbor to turn on him--after insufferable years of pity and relentless unwanted assistance, the blind kid did not want anyone to shelter him as such.

Though he knew it was the right decision to have made, given that Alia and Zinnia were relatively unscathed where he and Archer were fairly bloodied from previous fights, Arbor still felt a twinge of guilt at his betrayal. True, he never swore loyalty to anyone--there was no promise broken, so where was the betrayal?

What would have happened if he had backed Archer? In all probability, the two of them would be dead, or severely wounded at the very least. There was the off chance that the two boys could have overpowered their female opponents, although Arbor knew this outcome was unlikely.

No sense thinking in what-ifs. He admonished himself for considering other endings. He couldn't rewrite the past or undo his decision. There wasn't a way for him to atone for his hand in Archer's death, either, even if it hadn't really made a difference in the outcome. He would have died had Arbor chosen to do nothing.

But where did he stand now? It was obvious that the two girls had a tighter pact with one another than either did with him, and with the ever-dwindling number of tributes, how long would it be before they turned on him? He would have to gauge when it was time to leave, and he would have to do it perfectly. In the best-case scenario, the three would end up the losers of another fight. Arbor would rather not have to face off against them at any time ever.

Arbor brushed some snowflakes out of his hair. His ears were cold. His face was cold. His neck, chest, arms, legs were cold. His feet were numb. A thought struck him, and he stopped where he stood, knelt on the ground, and unzipped the backpacks he was carrying.

Their alliance had ended up with an abundance of supplies from the numerous enemies they had slain, even if Jeremy had taken the pack or two he was holding when he left. Arbor figured there was a good chance that there was an unused article of clothing stored in one of them.

"Can we take inventory real quick?" he asked, voice hoarse. It was the first time he'd spoken in awhile--days maybe--and his voice cut like a knife through the silence. He didn't think that anyone at all had spoken since they'd turned on Archer. "I want to see what we've won. And what we lost when--" Arbor couldn't suppress his scowl, couldn't tame his tone of voice "--Jeremy ran away."

They still had a decent wealth of items, it seemed, based on the size and weight of their backpacks. "Anyone got a hat?" he asked, gingerly feeling through his backpack. There was no telling what sharp things--knives, needles, nails, glass--could be hidden in the bottom, and seeing with your fingers was a good way to gain an unnecessary injury.

Arbor almost wanted to bring up the civil war--almost. But it didn't seem right for him to mention. He had is standing with the girls pegged as "fragile alliance at best" and did not aim to do anything to upset that. So he did what he was exceedingly good at: he kept his mouth shut.

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Pick Up the Pieces [Arbor, Zinnia, Alia] Mar 9, 2010 22:20:10 GMT -5

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Post by Sunrise Rainier D2 // [Thundy] on Mar 9, 2010 22:20:10 GMT -5

Hush, little baby, don't say a word.
Mama's gonna buy you a mockingbird

And if that mockingbird won't sing,
Mama's gonna buy you a diamond ring

And if that diamond ring turns brass,
Mama's gonna buy you a looking glass

And if that looking glass gets broke,
Mama's gonna buy you a billy goat

And if that billy goat won't pull,
Mama's gonna buy you a cart and bull

And if that cart and bull turn over,
Mama's going to buy you a dog named Rover.

And if that dog named Rover won't bark,
Mama's going to buy you a horse and cart.

And if that horse and cart fall down,
You'll still be the sweetest little baby in town.

Day Four

[/u]

Zinnia's mind felt like it was about to explode from the tension. Confused thoughts and feelings buzzed around her head like a mean hive of bees; the commotion never stopped. Her thoughts wouldn't settle, and the more she tried to make sense of what had just happened, what she was feeling, and who she was anymore, the conflicting parts of her brain warred even more and she only ended up more confused and hurt. For one of the first times since the beginning of the Games, she felt sympathy. She felt helpless, and she felt like she was in a horrid place. For the first time since the Games had started, she was afraid. Afraid to die, she realized. Despite her first plan to cause trouble and make life hell for someone in the Arena, (as in, Archer) she didn't feel accomplished. She didn't feel whole. She would be remembered, but was that really what mattered anymore? It didn't make her feel any better, nor did it make her anymore ready to die. She felt empty then, because she wasn't sure what her purpose was anymore. Her main goal was accomplished, and yet she didn't feel like she was done yet.

She was going somewhere, towards some result, some fate, and yet she didn't know what her fate would be. She thought that killing Archer would solve everything, make everything better, but all it did was take away any goals she had and it left her confused and unsure of herself. What would happen next? Would she just be killed off, just be one more tribute to die? One more stepping stone for someone else to pass on their own way to victory? No, you won't win. It was a silly thought even in itself. She had always, would always be useless. Ever since the day her mother died, her fate was sealed. Never amounting to anything, always being kicked (literally) around by others. Till the day she was going to die, it would be that way. Whether that day was going to be in the Arena or not was going to be decided solely by chance.

With her green-eyed gaze staring blankly towards the ground, the silence didn't bother her. She was too wrapped up in her own thoughts, too confused to say a word to either of her allies. If the Capitol had their cameras pointed towards her right then, she wouldn't seem like much of anyone in the Games. She would seem weak and tired and confused. She was all of those things, but that wasn't the point. If there was anyone out there who had made a point to keep track of her in the Games, maybe even anyone who was rooting for her, they most likely didn't any longer. They would love her crazy, murderous side, not her emotional side. It was too late, though, because it seemed that that part of her was gone for good. With her main target taken out, she was left without someone to direct her anger towards. Without a target, her feelings were empty and pointless, and any hatred or anger that was left had disappeared along with the people who she first directed it at. All she was left with were weak emotions. Sadness and sympathy and fear, and the Capitol didn't see those emotions as desirable in a tribute. Not that it mattered.. the alliance already had many items as it was, and Zinnia wasn't going to win the Games anyways. She was starting to have false hopes, but she knew that those hopes were silly. People like her didn't win the Hunger Games.

With a shallow breath Zinnia decided that she was thinking too much, so she turned her attention to other things. The first thing she noticed was how much colder it felt when she actually turned away from her confused thoughts and focused on it. The snow in the forest was less deep then out in the open tundra, but some of the cold snow still managed to soak through her boots and make her feet feel freezing. The air around her was already bitterly cold, and it didn't help that the wind was blowing rapidly. The air moved around her relentlessly and it bit at her face and ears with every one of it's movements. The cold had seemed bad enough when her mind was on other troubling thoughts, but when she actually paid attention to it, it felt unbearable.

Okay, bad idea. Focus on something else.. She told herself with a deep breath, but thankfully Arbor voiced a question that tore her mind away from how cold the air was. "Can we take inventory real quick?" He asked Ailia and herself. It was one of the first times that she had heard him speak in the Arena. She was thankful for the question because it directed her attention elsewhere, but she realized that she was still having trouble controlling her thoughts and actions. That may have been because of the previous incident, but another factor was probably the cold. It was always harder to think when it was cold. Nonetheless, she couldn't just stand there and not reply.

Sometime while she had been thinking again, Arbor had said something else, but she wasn't quite sure what it was. Something something something about the items they had left, and then something about a hat? She wasn't sure what he had even asked, but she looked through the several backpacks anyways. They had so many items and packs now that it was almost a certainty that there was a hat somewhere, if that's what Arbor had wanted. After looking through a first backpack she moved onto a second one. There was no hat in that one either. In the third pack she checked, no hat. The fourth one didn't have one either. She stopped then, and looked up at Arbor. "We have a whole ton of items, but I don't think there's a hat. Do you need one?" Her own voice was shaky when she spoke, so much weaker then it had been before the fight with Archer.

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Last Edit: Mar 12, 2010 23:02:13 GMT -5 by Sunrise Rainier D2 // [Thundy]

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Pick Up the Pieces [Arbor, Zinnia, Alia] Mar 13, 2010 1:35:51 GMT -5

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Post by ja'mie on Mar 13, 2010 1:35:51 GMT -5

ailia goodnite . the defiant one

Ailia was tired of herself. Well, her thoughts. She wanted to feel pain, loss, just like her team mates seemed to be feeling. She wanted to feel alone, helpless... just a bit of remorse would work. Yet, she just couldn't force herself to think like that. Nothing. Nothing came to mind. She wasn't even numb-feeling. In fact, if it weren't for her self-control, or lack there-of, she would be pleased right now. Ecstatic, even. The plan had worked, and they had come out victorious. Even Arbor had joined them, turning the tide greatly, and well... she felt satisfied with how things had turned out. Sure, it had been a bit dramatic, but drama always intrigued her because she had never experianced any back in the district. Back in the district... back in the district.

It had been boring back in the district. Days filled with reading and writing, dreaming. Yes, that was what had annoyed her the most. The daydreaming, all the time. It was like a virus that never went away. The symptoms were extreme.

And now she was here, living out those dreams. It was all a challenge, and she just loved it. A puzzle. Even if she couldn't solve it; she had found all the outer-edge pieces. The center was missing, so she couldn't figure out what the picture was... but she had gotten somewhere, at least.

Thank god her body wasn't on the same wavelength; it was tired and hurt, her leg shooting up a bolt of sheer pain every step she took. Every muscle ached, every bone felt fragile. It was harmonized to the rhythym of her walk, prickling up at the same time so that she was forced to take short strides. It was like she was carrying arounda cracked jar full of it's own glassy shards.

Yet, she was still pleased. What was wrong with her? She seemed to be slowly going mad, and it was getting worse... dangerously worse.

Ailia's legs suddenly gave way, and she plummeted to the ground. She sank into the snow with a sickening thud, the ice instantly cooling her wound. She knew she'd crash soon, it was just in a matter of time... She had been correct. Making no move to get up, Ailia languidly looked towards Arbor and Zinnia. When were they planning to stop... where were they all even headed?

"Can we take inventory real quick?" Arbor's voice rung out surprisingly. No one had spoken since they had left Archer to be picked up by the large crane, so his voice sounded strange. Or maybe it was just the cold wind playing tricks on her. "I want to see what we've won. And what we lost when Jeremy ran away."

Oh right. So much for "protecting her." Ailia looked down at the snow scornfully. Good thing she could take care of herself, even if she wasn't doing such a great job so far. Then again, no one really was; it was the hunger games after all.

"Anyone got a hat?"

Ailia turned her gaze in Zinnia's direction. She was looking through the silver packs, one by one. "We have a whole ton of items, but I don't think there's a hat. Do you need one?"

Ailia nimbly reached for a pack as well, reaching her hand into one and sifting through the items. Something sharp scathed her hand, and she pulled out. Going with a different tactic, Ailia opened the top and peered in instead. There were lots of weapons, hammers, knives, and picks. But nothing resembled what a hat might look like. Ailia looked up, then back down into the pack. "No hat here," She reported, yet something else did catch her eye. Pulling but a white, suit-case type container, Ailia studied the red plus sign plastered across it's front. "Although I did find some first aid." They all seemed to be at least somewhat hurt. This would come in handy, then.